


Skyler's letter

by HARRYMALFOY



Category: Breaking Bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 12:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14544738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HARRYMALFOY/pseuds/HARRYMALFOY
Summary: After Walt died, Skyler grabbed a piece of paper. She swore herself that she would never have anything to do with it, but this was necessary, so she started writing:





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just ignore the fact that Todd is still alive and that I forgot Saul's new name

Mr Pinkman.  
As much as Walt told me, you've been with him the night he died. He said he came to rescue you and he wanted to sacrifice his life for your freedom. He never planned to work with these guys, all he had in his mind was saving you. I don't know you, but I knew Walt. He always spoke very fond of you and even though he didn't want to admit it, he was very proud of you and happy to have you as his partner. I don't know, what you were doing while Hank was being shot and I don't know whether you know the stuff I'm telling you, but Walt would have wanted me to tell you this. He wouldn't want you to think that I should only tell you this, so you're not angry anymore and he justified himself, but he wanted you to know certain things. Walt almost never spoke of you, but when he did, it was something good or something he had to complain about, but that was just the way Walt was. Now, after everything that happened, I think you actually knew more about Walt than I did. I bet he told you the true reason why he was doing this. To me, he always said he did it for the family and stuff, but the day before he died, he said he did it because it made him feeling alive and happy. He told you first that he had cancer, even before me. You've spent four days together, I don't know what you were doing, I guess cooking, but I bet he told you a lot more than he told me. The whole first year of your cooking he didn't even talk to me at all. I had no idea what was going on, so I threw him out, as you probably already know. But I'm talking too much, I'm sorry. And in case you haven't already ripped this letter into pieces, I wanted to tell you that I was annoying my family and the people you two knew, so they would add their stories to my letter, because I don't know that much about you. So here they are.  
  
Hey.  
I don't really know why I'm doing this, probably because my mom is looking over my shoulder and first of all I want to tell you that you can go fuck yourself, you dick! You're not better than my dad! Alright, I'm sorry, my mom holds the leash. Anyways, I should tell you what my dad once said to me. It was last year, July 8th, my birthday. My dad stayed in his home till I visited him at noon. He was all beat up and said he'd gotten into a fight. I have no idea what fight it was and with who, but that's not interesting now. I cared for him and brought him to bed. I cleaned the blood on his forehead and gave him water and sleeping pills and a second before he dozed off, I said "Goodnight dad. I love you." And he answered, not fully aware of who he was taking to "I love you too, Jesse." What means, that you were like a son to him. I don't know if he even loved me as much as he loved you. He never saved my life, yours was saved several times. He left me and mom alone at home to leave with you. He was never happy with us since he started cooking with you. And I think I hate you for that. That you were a better son for him than I was.  
Walter Jr  
  
Hey Jesse.  
Remember me? You know, your lawyer. But yeah, that's not my name anymore, because I've got the one way ticket you wouldn't use, because you rather beat me up because of this little boy. But I don't want to remember you and I wasn't called here because of talking about him. I was called here because I should talk about the man. You already know what man I mean. The man, who saved you, the man who told you to carry on after the death of your girlfriend, the man, who told you to carry on after the boy was in the hospital, the man who agreed to be your fifty-fifty partner without complaining, the man who... I could carry on like this for hours, but the letter is going to end. So I will tell you something. Walter White was special and you know it very well. All he did at the end was out of pain. I just want you to understand how he felt and why he acted like this. What he told me about you when he was alone at my office, you wouldn't believe. And the more sad thing is that I can't retell it. Mostly he talked about what mistakes you were doing and about his wife. Last year, when you paired with his DEA brother in law, I, don't be mad at me, suggested it was an Old Yeller situation, I think these were my exact words. And he looked at me with his usual death glare and said: "We are not going to kill Jesse. No one is going to touch him." And I was shocked at that moment, because, wow, when I recall it, it felt to me like a slap in the face. He actually wanted to talk to you and tried to calm you down and I said what if you wouldn't want to talk and would rather shoot him in the head and even though he knew you would probably rather shoot him than talking, he still didn't allow anyone to touch you. You should know that he really loved you and he was so damaged after he found out you paired with his brother in law.  
Saul  
  
Jesse Pinkman.  
I know you probably will burn this letter as soon as you know who's writing now, but I beg you, please don't. Just read what I have to say, it might be important. Mr White was kind of my hero. He thought me so much and I really admired him, but there were things I shouldn't have done. As he found out, that we killed Andrea he was furious. And as if that wasn't enough, we killed her in front of your eyes. When Mr White found that out, he screamed and threw things at me and cursed and I remember the things he screamed at us, as if it was yesterday. "You losers!", he screamed, "How dare you taking the only thing he's got left!" I'm sorry for every stupid thing I have done, and I know there were very much of these. For killing the boy, for killing your girlfriend, leaving her on the doorstep and leaving her son alone. I'm sorry for not trusting you and trying to replace you. Sorry.  
Todd.


	2. Jesse's answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse answers to Skyler's letter

Dear Mrs White.  
First of all, thank you for the letter, it was nice to hear from you. I know I don't have to tell you and you probably don't even want to hear it, but I think Mr White would have wanted to know. So, I left the city. Mr White watched the love of my life die and didn't do anything and now I watched my girlfriend being shot in the head on her doorstep, as you already know. I have nothing to loose now, so I left. My parents don't even want to keep in touch with me. I will miss Albuquerque. I'm not doing drugs anymore, thanks to Walt. I'm not dealing, cooking or smoking anymore, I'm absolutely clean.  
The media was full of the great Heisenberg's death. Yes, indeed, I was with him the night he died. He freed me and he literally took a bullet for me. Mr White was a genius, not only in terms of cooking, but everything. After the men were shot, Mr White and I stood up and then something happened. The leader of this gang, Todd's uncle, was still barely alive. He lit a cigarette and said to Walt: "Hey, wait. I have your money. If you kill me, you will never know, where-" he didn't get any further, because Mr White shot him in the head. And in that moment it was like I could read Mr White's mind. He didn't want the money. He didn't need the money. All he needed was freedom from this pain, his family and a cup of hot coffee. I knew it. And he did so much for this money, he absolutely forgot the reason what he was doing it for. At the beginning, it really was you and your children he did this for. He wanted to leave you money. The first times, he sat in the camper and calculated in his head how much money he still needed for the college and high school of your children, for food and gas, for holidays and all that stuff. But the longer he cooked, the more fun he had in it and I reckoned, when we cooked, Walt was kind. Only when I did something wrong, he was strict, but only because he wanted his product to be perfect. And when we didn't cook, he was an ass. Maybe because he wanted to protect me, maybe because it was his way to show his love or maybe because he simply was an ass, I don't know.  
Yes, in these four days you mentioned, we were out in the desert and cooked. At first. After two days, we had so much Crystal, we easily could have stopped, but Walt wanted to keep cooking. I said he shouldn't be so strict to himself and suggested we could go to a nice hotel for a night. You know, the beds in the camper were awful! So Walt agreed and we were damn happy. Really, when I think about it now, he laughed more than he did later. He was so happy, we cooked so much Crystal, we could have earned good 600.000 for each of us, and we did that together, us two. Walt was so proud and so we started the camper. But after a second or two, the battery was empty and the camper didn't start again. Walt was horrified, he freaked out, we were in the desert, far away from any civilization and far away from home. We only had one hope-his smartphone. Walt didn't want to call anyone, because he thought you would check the list, but I could convince him. We couldn't call you, because you didn't know about the trip and so we had to call a loyal friend of mine. We described the way and Pete drove off. After three hours, it got dark and cold, I called him again. Pete said he had half the way behind him, but then he said he came across a river, and on our way was no river. Walt realised that and so we reckoned, Pete was on the wrong way. We were lost. Walt lay down on one of these horrible beds and closed his eyes. It was more than cold now and the desert surrounding us was pitch black. The next day, Walt said he deserved it. He blamed himself for what happened even though it was my fault because I left the key in the ignition lock. And then we managed to build our own battery. That's what we have been doing these four days. You know, you all say, everything Mr White did was for my own good and he didn't mean it, but sometimes he really was insufferable.  
To Walter Jr, I'm glad you told me this. Normally, I don't express my feelings in a letter, but what you told me was really touching and I had tears in my eyes. I didn't know I was that close to your father. And to be honest, I don't blame you for calling me a dick and for telling me I should go fuck myself. If it calms you, I can tell you, I do that every evening. Haha, anyways, I understand it. We did things... you shouldn't know. We did terrible things, really. But you know what? I don't even regret it and I don't think your father regretted it. Maybe he regretted losing his family, but not the cooking. While we cooked, he was happy, he was free, he was alive, and most important, he was himself. About the fight... it was me who beat him up, but you should have seen my face too. We got really rough because of a stupid thing and we got into a fight.  
Walt was my idol for a very long time. He helped me up when I was down, he felt with me, even though sometimes he didn't show it and yes, he also was a selfish piece of shit. Mrs White, you really should be proud. Maybe you know, Walt, Todd and I robbed a train. Maybe you didn't know it, but now you do. Anyways, so Mike, a former partner of Walt and mine, and I quit. We didn't want to stay in this business. Mike made a deal with some guy and wanted to sell the 1000 gallons of methamphetamine for 5 millions for each of us. But Walt didn't want the money. He wanted to keep his portion and simply refused to take the money. So Mike and I went to see the guy and told him, he couldn't have all of the methamphetamine, only Mike and my portion, but then the guy didnt want it. He wanted all or nothing.  
Mike had to lock Mr White up, but he could free himself and stole the whole methamphetamine. He came to talk to me. I didn't want to see him, but he begged, said he had a plan, and so I let him in. After he told me the plan, we got back to where Mike locked him up and waited for him, what didn't take too long, because five minutes later, Mike stormed in and held a gun to Walt's head, but I stopped him and said he should listen to what Mr White wanted to say. And about two days later, we went to meet the guy again. Mr White talked to him and now we're coming to the part I want to tell you about. This guy was a cook himself. Not nearly as good as Walt, of course, but he wanted to be. They mixed blue color into their Crystal, so it looked like Walt's. Everyone wanted to be like him, everyone wanted to cook Crystal like him and everyone wanted to take Crystal like his. He was a hero.  
Walt was a jerk sometimes, but I still miss him. I thank him my life and I will always do. I spent the best time of my life with him and I do not regret it. I miss him. And you should too.  
Jesse Pinkman.


End file.
